Fine Moon
by M00nlightfox
Summary: When Blue moves to Beacon Hills, she doesn't expect to become part of a pack, nor does she expect to meet her mate. But she's not even a werewolf, just human, surely they're wrong? Could she really be mates to Scott McCall? How is that possible and what does it even mean? -Rated M for later chapters [scott/oc] [lydia/Stiles]
1. Chapter 1

Fine Moon

Chapter one

When my mum loaded our things into the truck and announced we were going to Disneyland, I knew I was in trouble. Like any respectable teenager, I made my unwilling cooperation abundantly clear as I clambered In the passenger seat, enveloped immediately in the unfortunate smell of sour milk that seemed to defy the air fresheners hanging optimistically above the dashboard. Months ago I spilt a strawberry milkshake all over the seats and I knew then that wherever we move, that smell that no amount of soap touches will most likely follow us. My mum didn't find that observation as amusing as I did, nor did she laugh when I brought out my Mickey Mouse ears. Honestly some people have nooo sense of humour.

Disneyland was our code for moving - an inside joke turned sour from frequent use. We moved more than most people, a chain that had started once my Dad left when I was nine. As we drove to whatever place my mum had decided to start again in, again, I tried to study her profile in a manner that I hoped was conspicuous. With long cinnamon coloured hair that hung in girlish waves down her back and eyes that always seemed on the verge of laughter, she looked good for forty-two. Her flighty nature was most definitely not due to lack of male attention -unlike me my mother had no trouble in that regard- and neither was it due to an inability to make friends. While we've never had a lot in the way of money, it was with a smile and an absurdly optimistic attitude that she took whatever job was available. Sometimes though I couldn't help but wonder if she were as happy as she seemed. I don't need a psych degree to tell you she is clearly running away from something...

"Blue will you quit staring at me already," a quick smile softens the words as she turned to glance at me briefly. "You're not being as subtle as you think you are."

"Am I not? There goes my dream of being a Russian spy."

She laughs. "You're not Russian."

"I could be if I tried hard enough, especially in that ridiculous furry hat you bought me"-

"Hey let's leave the hat out of this." When she laughs some of the tension eases from her shoulders. and yet as she opens her mouth again, I know what's coming. "I'm sorry about all this Blue."

"It's fine." I hated her apologies but most of all I hated how sad she seemed when saying them.

"It's not, I promised I wouldn't make you move again." Her smile is gone completely now and her hands are holding the wheel so tightly her knuckles have turned white.

"It's fine," I repeat, this time stronger. As we sit in a tense silence I suddenly wish we had the foresight to get the radio repaired. Still I fiddle uncomfortable with the dials, knowing that no music is going to come to my rescue.

"Besides," I say, trying to throw off the heavy atmosphere with a forced smile. "This trip is getting me out of a presentation that I was decidedly unprepared for." My efforts are rewarded with a smile, even if it's fleeting.

By the time our truck trundles into Beacon Hills, my optimism has started to fray. I can say it's fine and I can smile, but inside I'm already picturing a new life that comes with unfamiliar baggage and even more unfamiliar people. My mum loved this part, making connections and friends, but for me it was the worst. While I'm not completely introverted, I am far from a social butterfly - think of me more as a social moth perhaps only less hairy and thankfully free from antennae. I was not looking forward to school and every time I thought about it, my stomach decided to turn to lead and my palms would sweat.

I'm immediately pulled from my teenage misgivings when we pull up outside our new house. It's small and painted an unfortunate colour that can't seem to decide between yellow and green. God even the door matches. It is however surprisingly picturesque, or at least it is if I squint just a little bit-

"What do you think?" My mothers smile is so bright and hopeful I can't help but match it.

"It's certainly nicer than our last place!" It was true. While in need of decorating it already beat our last two bedroom apartment.

"I know! Property is surprisingly cheap here," she says as she starts to pull out our suitcases. "I didn't dare ask why." Wise choice I thought to myself, as I clamber out after her.

The interior was much nicer and when I run up the stairs to explore the bedrooms, I know immediately which one was mine. It was the smaller of the three and oddly L-shaped, but it was cosy and overlooked the backyard which I already loved. We hadn't had our own outside space for years. I stand in the centre of the room trying to take everything in. Although the awful floral wallpaper was peeling and the skirting boards were all but begging for a fresh coat of paint, I could see the potential and for once I actually felt something related to excitement.

It took us two days to sort the house, two whole days of us lugging boxes, painting everything we could get out hands on and turning the jungle into a garden. Mercifully my mum had the foresight to hire a moving team to help us with the furniture and as the space began to fill with our things, some of the anxiety started to leave me as familiarity returned. My room was the last to be transformed. Together we had taken away the dated wallpaper and painted everything so the walls were now a comforting shade of eggshell blue that I always found calming. I know I know, awfully dull but perhaps my edge-factor will be restored when I plaster the walls with posters. Anyway the point is I have my own space again, a place to do with whatever I wished. At the moment however, what I wished was to remain cocooned in my duvet forever, especially as I consider the day ahead of me.

"Blueeeeeeeeeee." There it goes again, my mother doing her best impression of a shrill parent. "Blue! You're going to be late for school!"

As I heard her footsteps cross the landing towards me, I groan and clench my eyes shut knowing what was about to happen. True to form, the blanket was unfairly ripped away from me. Confronted by awful daylight, I pathetically lay in the middle of my bed, my limbs all pointing outwards like a sad little starfish.

"Why would you do this to me?" I say, blinking groggily. "Have I not been a good daughter?" I know without looking that she rolled her eyes.

"The best," she says, though her tone says she's not so sure. "Now get up. You have fifteen minutes or you're walking there."

When she leaves as abruptly as she arrived, I finally start moving. Glancing in the mirror I'm met with tired blue eyes and freckles that seemed stark against skin even paler than normal. I couldn't sleep last night, choosing instead to sit up and whittle over my first day and the importance of first impressions. Determined to hide the evidence, I brush my hair that is the exact shade of my mums and tie it back in a ponytail before I set to work on my makeup. Clothes is a much more daunting task but when my name was yelled for the fifth time this morning, I settle on a pair of black jeans, cherry-red Dr Martens and a dark green vest top, backpack slung over my shoulder in what I hoped was a careless manner.

We made it on time, something that causes me to feel both dread and relief at the same time. I didn't want to draw any unnecessary attention to myself and yet at the same time, I had hoped to delay the inevitable. With my bag on my lap I peer out the car window at Beacon Hills High School, watching pensively as the other students merge into groups and pour up the steps before being immediately enveloped by white walls. I could feel my palms starting to sweat already. Attractive I know.

"Are you OK?" My mum asks, watching me softly. She knew how hard I found making friends, how much I hated awkward social interactions and first school days were always awkward. When I don't reply she places a hand in mine and squeezes reassuringly. "Just be yourself and you'll be fine." I resist the urge to tell her that statement is easy for her to say, she never has trouble making friends.

With one last goodbye and a grateful smile, I force myself out and into the teenage world once more, my bag slung up on my shoulder. It's not as bad as I had feared, I suppose if I was really honest with myself, it never is. As I enter the doors, only a few people pay me any sort of attention. Most are too wrapped up in their own conversations, converging around their lockers or heading to their classrooms.

Glancing at the timetable held awkwardly in my hands, I try to make sense of where I was supposed to be going without looking too much like the lost newbie that I was. I must have been staring too intently because I manage to crash into someone else so hard the air was immediately knocked out of me. Awkward limbs -mine and the poor person I had unwilling accosted- flailed everywhere as each of us attempted to right themselves.

It was a boy with pale skin and a shock of brown hair and when he helped me back to my feet, I immediately launch into apologies.

"I am so sorry," he says, beating me to it. "You wouldn't believe how often this happens"-

"No it was my fault," I say quickly cutting off his nervous ramblings. "I was too busy trying to figure out where I was going." I look at him then, actually look at him I mean. He was cute in an awkward kinda way, with nervous energy bouncing off of him in waves. He also unfortunately, appeared to be my age. I say unfortunately because that means I just embarrassed myself in front of someone who may very well be in one of my classes.

"Do you have any idea where the principals office is?" I ask when he remains silent and staring. As if my question pulls him back from whatever he's thinking, he suddenly launches into life taking the timetable from me.

"So you're the new girl. Yeah I can totally take you to it - if you like of course! Oh look we have math together...and economy. Sorry guess that means you have to put up with coach too. He's crazy intense. Hey what's your name?"

I'm struggling to keep up with the fast stream of chatter that I almost miss the question.

"It's Blue," I reply with a smile. "And yours?"

"Stiles. It a sort of nickname...sort of," he adds quickly at the bemused look on my face. He comes to an abrupt stop outside an office and gestures awkwardly. "Here's your stop."

"Thanks Stiles," I say stepping past him. "Im glad to have already met one friendly face. I guess I'll see you in math." I mean it too, there is something strangely endearing about him and when I head into the office, I feel a lot more optimistic.

It was a typical meeting, brief with attempts at being personable and welcoming yet somehow failing at both. I've done so many first days that honestly I could have recited the Principal's whole speech. But still I smiled and asked the obligatory questions that they always seemed to expect. By the time he gave me my locker keys and released me, it was nearly second period so I headed to class early.

Lurking in the halls awkwardly, I try to present a picture of complete calmness, as if I belong here, as if I already fitted in. By the time others join me, the mask starts to crumble pretty quickly.

Just be yourself. I repeat my mothers words like a mantra over and over as I follow everyone into the classroom, eyes on the floor stubbornly refusing the make eye contact with anyone. I didn't need to, I could feel their stares. Be. Yourself. Just be-

"Miss Louise?"

Oh no. Just as I had hoped to escape to the back of the classroom, here comes the awkward introduction that teachers insist on every time. Honestly, why do they do that? I Can say without a shadow of a doubt that never has such an introduction benefited anyone. Still, it wasn't in my nature to be rude.

"Yes Ms..."

"Ms. Flemming," she says with a wide smile. "I understand this is your first lesson here Blue?"

"That's right but I really don't want to make a fuss"- It was too late. I could see it in her eyes that nothing I could say would sway her.

"Class I'd like you all to welcome a new student," she says loudly, instantly demanding attention. I smile and even give a little awkward wave as everyone turns their eyes toward me. "Her name is Blue and I expect you all to make her feel as welcome as you would like if it were your first day."

Oh thank the heavens she didn't make me introduce myself at least. My relief was short lived. Turning to me she said in a quieter voice, "have you been shown around the school yet?"

"No but that won't be necessary"-

"Are there any volunteers to show our new addition around the school?" Her voice is so loud and sudden it makes me flinch. When no one immediately volunteers, it's all I can do to maintain a smile and my dignity. I'm about to give up hope when a pale arms enthusiastically shoots up in the air. Ms. Fleming sighs loudly. "Anyone but Stiles?"

"I guess I can do it," a voice chimes in from my left as a beautiful redhead flounces into the class, apparently unconcerned that she's late. As she slides into her seat she gives me a careful once over, her gaze lingering disapprovingly on my boots. Still, the smile she gives me is beautiful if not sincere. "I'm Lydia and I'd be happy to show you around."

Desperate to no longer be the centre of attention, I quickly murmur my thanks and disappear into the back like I originally planned. I smile gratefully at stiles as I pass him and I'm about to assure him I would have been happy for his company when I make eye contact with the boy sat behind him.

I'm immediately bewildered at how I had managed to miss him before. It's strange but now I see him, he's all I see. He's staring back at me too and right away I'm struck with how warm his brown eyes are. From the corner of my eye, I can see Stiles looking back and forth between us and I finally force my gaze away. But I don't continue anymore, instead i sit myself behind the desk beside him.

I try so hard to focus on my first lesson, reminding myself that I'm not the type of girl to lose her head over a cute boy but as much as I hate to be a breathing cliche, I sit there imagining ways I could introduce myself without seeming creepy or weird. It's only as the teacher addresses him that I learn his name. It's Scott, a solid name that I decide immediately suits him.

 **A/n so this is my first teen wolf story! I know it was only a short beginning but I hope you all enjoyed it and continue to enjoy it; I have big plans for this series. I'd be hugely grateful if you could favourite/review - any feedback is always welcome :) thank youuu**


	2. Chapter 2

_Disclaimer: I don't own Teen Wolf –sadly- or any of its characters._

CHAPTER TWO

"Hey Blue how's it going?" Stiles is at my desk before everyone shuffles from class and the smile that he greets me with seems warm and genuine.

"Great. Nothing says welcome quite like calculus." My smile fades when I notice Scott behind him. He's not smiling or meeting my gaze. In fact he seems to be looking everywhere else but at me, as if there were much better things he'd rather be doing.

When Stiles gives him an awkward shove to regain his attention, I gather I'm not the only one that thinks he's acting off. "Hey Scott, this is Blue. Remember the new girl I was telling you about?"

Scott does meet my gaze then. "It's nice to meet you Blue." The way he says my name seems somehow personal and to my shame, it's enough to make my heart pick up its pace. It doesn't last. Before I can reply he straightens and turns away from me. "I have to go." He doesn't even bother coming up with an excuse before he disappears, leaving both me and Stiles staring at him in surprise.

"Well, that was weird," he says eventually, still staring at the now empty doorway.

"Is he always so…" I don't want to say rude but it's implied, my sentence drifting off awkwardly.

"No never."

I'm sure he didn't mean it that way but the implication is that the problem is me and it leaves me feeling oddly cold and empty. See, this is why I hate first days. They're always so unpredictable.

"I wouldn't pay too much attention to it," a new voice says from behind me. "Scott's been through a lot recently." It's Lydia, her gaze softer than it was earlier as she stared at me. "And besides," she continues, mouth curling into a smile. "Neither Stiles or Scott are known for their social skills. Are you coming?"

"Coming where?"

She rolls her eyes impatiently. "I promised you a tour remember. Not that there's much to see in this place." When Stiles makes a move to follow us she pins him with a look. "Don't you have somewhere else to be Stiles?"

I can't help but laugh at the blank look on his face.

"Like try-outs?" She prods with a small smile. He bursts into action then, yelling as he dashes from the room in a hurry. "Before you ask, yes he's always like that."

"I like it," I reply honestly. "He's like an excitable puppy"-

"Hopefully not one you want to adopt," she spares me another glance as I follow her into the halls. "He's sort of got this thing going on with a girl called Malia."

"Sort of?"

"Let's just say she's claimed him," she laughs briefly to herself, her heels _ratta-tatting_ on the floors. I can't help but notice people staring at we pass, no doubt at her. She's like a whirlwind disturbing everything she passes, making me feel almost small in comparison.

"Well you don't have to worry," I say suddenly uncomfortable as I recall Scott's indifference. "I don't have any intentions to pursue Stiles." Lydia suddenly halts, either not caring or not noticing that she had caused two boys to crash into each other in their attempt to avoid her.

"What was that?" She asks, scrutinising me intensely. "There was something in your voice…you have your eye on someone already?"

"Nono," I intervene quickly, but I can already feel my face turning red.

"You do! Don't be embarrassed, I like a girl who knows what she likes," she smiles but I still don't relax, horribly aware that we're holding up the flow of people. When she finally gives up and moves on, I give a little sigh of relief and continue to follow in her wake. "Just please don't tell me it's Scott."

Her voice is light but I'm glad she was no longer looking at me, certain of the telling expression on my face. I never was very good at lying so I just to say nothing and instead laugh it off. Clearly Poker is not my game.

She shows me around the school, including the cafeteria, gym and library, all the while keeping up a steady stream of chatter and commentary on who I should and shouldn't be friends with. Of course she placed herself at the top of her list and despite the way she spoke about Stiles and Scott earlier, they weren't much behind her. Whenever she mentioned them, no matter how brief, her face softened in a way that suggested they were much closer to her than she tried to make out. I was immediately envious. Sure I have had friends in the past, but none that I would have ever considered particularly close to me.

"So tell me about yourself," Lydia instructs when there's a sudden lag in conversation.

"I like long walks on the beach and my favourite food is pizza." I'm rewarded with a laugh.

"I'll remember to tell that to the guy you've set your sights on," she says with a smile.

"There's not much else to tell really. I like pretty much all kinds of music and have an unfortunate obsession with inappropriate t-shirts. My mum raised me by herself for the most part so I don't have a big family or anything. We move constantly so I've never really had time to put any roots down somewhere I guess."

When she looks at me her gaze is softer but not filled with any kind of pity. "That must be nice," she says surprising me. It's not what people usually say. "You must have a boy in every town. Just imagine the trail of broken hearts you could leave behind."

I can't help but laugh. "I'll have to keep imagining it because it's never happened. I can't even remember the last time I had a date" –

"We'll have to change that. Maybe starting with that mystery boy you like."

"Maybe," I say, if only out of politeness.

It's a nice enough school, much much bigger than the last one and by the time we arrive at the bleachers my feet are starting to ache and so are my cheeks from smiling so much. Lydia had introduced me to a whirl of people as we went, sharing my name with everyone and dragging me away before they could ever give me theirs. Not that they needed to. Whenever we passed anyone she immediately filled me in with their life history.

To my surprise I hit it off with Lydia much better than I had anticipated. Sure she was a little intense and bossy, but she made me laugh and never looked at me strange when I spoke my mind. When we sit on the bleachers next to two other girls, I'm already feeling better and more like myself. Maybe this year wouldn't be so bad…

"This is Kira," Lydia says as she gestures to a girl with dark eyes and long dark hair. She's pretty with a smile that immediately lights up her face. "And this is Malia." Malia is less friendly but no less pretty, her gaze meeting mine before flicking away disinterestedly. "She's…well she takes some getting used to."

"Ah I dread to think about how many times people have said that about me," I quip, trying to disperse any awkwardness. Malia smiles briefly, but her gaze is still caught by something apparently much more interesting than a new girl.

I can immediately see why. The field is completely occupied by guys, some of them practicing lacrosse and others running laps around the pitch. I spot Stiles immediately, he's lagging behind and covered with sweat. His mouth is hung open as if he's struggling to breathe and when he finally flops in defeat on the field I try to suppress a laugh. Poor Stiles, no doubt I would be the same. A quick glare from Malia stops me from commenting and I suddenly remember what Lydia had said about her claiming him.

I'm about to look away and ask everyone what their next period is when I see Scott, he runs over to Stiles and immediately pulls him to his feet, smiling and holding him up as if he's had to do this many times before. He looks almost ridiculously good, the white of his sports top contrasting with his tanned skin perfectly and clinging to his shoulders. It shows enough of his arms to tell me he's much more defined and muscled than I had previously assumed.

Suddenly as if feeling my gaze, Scott stiffens and turns, his eyes finding mine immediately. He doesn't look away straight away and neither do I and I can feel my heart pick up speed once more. When he breaks the contact and walks away like nothing happened, I can't quite repress the sigh of disappointment.

When I caught Lydia watching me I forced myself to look away, immediately snapping my mouth shut and smiling innocently back at her.

"What's wrong with you?" The tersely-asked question makes me flinch guilty, automatically assuming it was addressed to me. But it wasn't. Malia was looking directly at Kira who even I could see looked suddenly morose. "You reek of anxiety," Malia continues bluntly. "And it's distracting. What's going on?"

"Scott and I sort of had this thing happen," she says awkwardly, sending a quick glance my way as if she felt awkward sharing so much in front of me. My hopes –unfounded of course- immediately plummeted. I look back at Scott leading his friend away. Of course I should never have assumed he was single.

"But it wasn't much of a thing," Kira continues beside me. "And now I'm starting to think it never was anything, at all." I try not to react and to give every impression that I'm barely even listening.

"What do you want it to be?" Malia asks and Kira sighs exaggeratedly. Even as an outsider I can see how upset this conversation is making her and I feel awful for secretly feeling any kind of bitterness towards her when she had been so friendly towards me.

Even so when she says she wants more, I can't help but wish I were somewhere else, a stab of unfamiliar jealousy ripping through me. What was happening to me? I had only just got here and I was getting emotional over a boy that could barely spare a sentence to me. This isn't like me.

I make eye contact with Lydia again and this time she knows. I can see it in her eyes as she watches me with that strange and knowing smile. "Something wrong?" She asks innocently. "Or are you just that fascinated by our Lacrosse team?"

"I was just wondering how the game works," I reply, forcing my voice to stay casual. "It was never really a thing in my last school."

"Keep watching and you'll pick it up soon enough," she pauses. "Scott is the captain of the team you know. Or at least he was." My gaze immediately finds him among the other members of the team. He's about to step up and take a shot and I can suddenly see how he became Captain. He seemed so confident and at ease that I was certain he had skill to back it up.

He misses and when his next turn comes round, he misses that one too. Stiles isn't faring any better as both of them continue to miss every single shot. And Scott bless him, looks bewildered every single time as if this was something new to him.

"Isn't the captain supposed to be one of the best players on the team? Kira asks. "Or good?" Lydia laughs, apparently enjoying this much more than the rest of us. When he steps up to take another shot, we all sit there in silence _. Come on Scott_.

He misses again, the ball going so far above the net that people around us snicker until I silence them all with glares. And then he's looking up at me, _right at me_. He looks annoyed, almost angry and for one second it's almost as if he's holding me responsible. Before I can react, the moment passes and I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding.

"Well that was weird," Lydia says, letting me know I wasn't the only one to notice. I don't answer and no one else says anything as we watch the team reform until both Stiles and Scott are covering goal.

Kira and Malia both give out sudden whoops as they manage to defend it successfully, not once but three times. Their joy and that of the boys who are smiling and high-fiving over and over again is infectious and I can't help but feel a frisson of excitement too.

"Have you met Scott before?" Lydia asks quietly, just as they defend another shot and both Malia and Kira jumps to their feet to cheer.

"No, just today in class," I reply quickly. "Why?" She doesn't answer, just sits back in her seat with a disapproving face that makes me feel oddly guilty. I'm so deep in my thoughts that I almost miss the freshman manage to slip past Scott and Stiles, his ball landing neatly in the net.

"He's good," Lydia says in surprise, her attention thankfully diverted. "Anyone know who he is?"

I can see the tension in Scott's body from here, his shoulders so stiff and coiled. Even Stiles is no longer looking like his enthusiastic self and I feel a surprising stab of anger, anger that has me standing to my feet. Before I can think any better of it, I'm yelling how the shot was nothing but luck. All eyes turn to me but I refuse to give in to my embarrassment and back down.

"Do-over!"

"Sweetheart," the coach turns to me with a patronising smirk. "There's no 'do-overs' this is practice."

I glance back at Scott who's watching me intently. "Ten bucks on Scott and Stiles." When the Coach turns back to me with surprise, I know I've won.

"I'll take that action. Get back in there Liam!"

The freshman I presume is Liam steps back up to take his shot and I try not to react to Lydia beside me. "What the hell was that?" She asks in a hiss.

"What?" I say innocently, meeting her gaze. "Can I not show support for my new team?" I don't try to hide my laugh as she rolls her eyes.

"At least we can put a name to their new star player now," she says, turning her attention back to the pitch.

Liam is fast, surprisingly so as he makes it past Stiles. For one tense moment I'm sure he's done it, that he's going to slip back Scott and make his shot. But the ball doesn't make it to the net. With enough force that even I wince in sympathy, Scott slams into Liam, sending him to the floor in a violent heap.

As he remains there unmoving no one knows whether to cheer. When Liam finally moves it's clear that there's something wrong, his leg lying in an unnatural angle. The coach is the first to react, yelling at everyone to leave him alone as he rushes to his side. When Scott takes off his helmet and throws it to the floor, I can see how awful he feels and it makes me regret every opening my mouth.

When I meet Lydia's gaze, I can read the message there. It says plainly and smugly _, I told you so_.

 **A/N So that was Blue's first day at Beacon Hills Highschool. Don't worry, this series won't be a simple re-telling of season 4. They will be having their own story line and adventures in between the shows events. I hope you liked it and please don't hesitate to review!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter three**

Oh shit, I've broken a boy's leg. I must have spoken that thought out loud for Lydia gave a short little laugh besides me, before looking at me as if I had said something stupid. Her smile turns into an eye roll when she sees the look of horror on my face.

"Oh please, _you_ didn't do anything. Scott got carried away that's all, although I've never seen him so" – She stops abruptly, not that I can blame her as Kira and Malia both push past her to rush onto the pitch. I hear her give a long suffering sigh as I follow after them, eyes wavering between Scott's panicked face and the boy still making pitiful noises on the floor. He looked so guilty it was enough to inspire the same feeling in me, the sensation evident in my wringing hands.

"I'm sorry," I say maybe once, maybe twice before I give up, my voice failing to penetrate the excited chatter of the gathering crowd. I should never have intervened. As I continue to hover around the side-lines helplessly, I watch as Scott and Stiles carry Liam away, Scott's voice dropping to a manner I imagine was meant to be soothing.

"I wouldn't worry too much about it," Lydia says, forcing her way back into my line of sight. "It just gives Scott a chance to play the hero, a role he does _exceedingly_ well." Although her voice is meant to be sarcastic, I can tell there's a more serious edge underneath; admiration perhaps? Respect?

"A hero? He just broke a boy's leg," I point out.

"Ah so you admit it was his fault and not yours," she smiles, the glimmer coming back in her eyes as she studies me." I don't return it, I'm too busy watching Kira say something to Malia, her eyes creased in worry. "I wouldn't worry about Kira. She'll catch up with Scott later and realise everything is fine. Jeez, everyone is so melodramatic today. If anyone's should be worried it's me."

"Why's that?" I reply distractedly.

"Because there's this new girl who seems to have her eye on an assuredly unavailable someone," she looks up at me then and I know exactly what she's referring to. "I'm not worried for him or even for his girlfriend, if anything I'm worried for the girl. It's not nice to like someone who isn't interested – trust me I know." I looked at her in surprise, staring again at her large eyes and high cheekbones. It was hard to imagine anyone not being interested in her. "Do you understand what I'm saying Blue?"

"I get it," I reply. "But relax, I'm not interested in anyone – not really. This is only my first day remember."

"Who says I was talking about you?" There's that glimmer in her eye again, and with one last smile and a hair flip I'm sure was deliberate, Lydia turns her back and follows in the wake of her friends. She pauses only briefly to turn back to me, "are you coming or not?"

Dinner later was a subdued affair, consisting of me poking at my now cold pizza and my Mum doing her best to dig for details in a way I'm sure she considered subtle. I've always been hopeless at hiding my discontent and from the corner of my eye, I can see her watching as my finger repeatedly hits against the side of my glass, flinching every now and then as my ring makes contact with an obtrusive clang.

"Did you make any friends?" She bursts out, finally removing all traces of subtlety.

"I think so," I say after a while, and it's true. Lydia, for whatever reason, seemed to take a liking to me and although I definitely liked her back, I wasn't so sure about the others and where I stood in the group she was so obviously a big part of. If I looked back at my day with a dispassionate eye, I suppose I can say it went well – better than any other first day in my unfortunate past- but I couldn't shake the feeling of 'wrongness' that had settled around me like a sad little cloud. It had nothing to do with the house; surrounded by our own stuff and the fire on in the background -unnecessary I know but mum knew how to make me feel at home- it was undeniably cosy. Heat curls around me comfortingly, my feet digging into the thick carpet as I stare absentmindedly from the window. Black skies and dark trees stare back.

"Is it alright if I go for a walk?" I ask suddenly, thinking it might clear my head a little. My mum followed my gaze, instantly dubious. "I know it's late, I won't be long."

Once outside I stick to the streetlights and stuff my hands in my pockets, eyes wondering idly over our neighbour's houses, wondering how long they'd all lived in this sleepy town.

Away from the school I can't help but ponder over brown eyes that at the time, seemed so important but now left me feeling nothing but confusion. I had no idea why seeing him had affected me so badly. Moving school I had seen many a handsome boy, handsome jocks even who dated only the most beautiful of girls, and yet never had I lost my head so much. If anything I pride myself on my ability to remain aloof in said situations, while others bat their eyelashes and made their intentions obvious. There wasn't anything wrong with an obvious bit of flirting of course but aloofness suited me better. Anything more courted potential pain and disappointment. Anyway the point is, it's very unlike me to take interest in a boy who barely spared a sentence for me.

Thankfully my interest was more of a healthy curiosity now and lingering guilt that I spared for the boy with the broken leg.

Shivering, I pull my jacket tighter and hug my arms to myself. Maybe the fire wasn't quite so excessive after all. Every time I breathe I can see little puffs of air in front of my face, lingering momentarily before they dissipate into the night air. Looking past the picturesque buildings, I crane my neck upwards until I see the sky and for a moment, all my troubles seem smaller. In a smaller city with less lights, the stars are so much clearer, peppering the inky sky and the moon seemed huge – almost full. Maybe this place wasn't so bad after all.

"Blue?" I jump so hard and high I'm amazed I didn't simply fall to the floor right then and there. Whirling around with my hand against my chest, I relax almost instantly when I realise it's just Scott, moonlight kissing along his jaw. Actually, maybe relax is the wrong word, rather the nervous tension has been replaced with another kind of tension, this one making me instantly worry how my hair looked or if I had pizza remnants round my mouth.

"Scott, hey!" I try to sound relaxed but instantly realise I sound anything but.

He smiles and steps closer; he's taller than I had thought. "What are you doing out so late?"

"Just…getting to grips with the neighbourhood," I reply lightly.

"You live round here?" I nod, instantly aware of how uncomfortable he looks with that idea. "Me too," he continues. "This one is me." I follow his gesture to a house that's bigger and better maintained than mine, undecided on how _I_ feel about having him live so close to me. Ok so undecided is probably a lie, I can't quite repress the shiver of happiness it causes me. Still, I have dignity and can tell when I'm not liked.

"What are you doing out so late anyway?" I ask, trying to change the subject. He looks surprised, perhaps he had forgotten I was there after the brief moment of awkward silence.

"I've just come back from the hospital

I instantly feel chastised, noticing for the first time the same white shirt he had on from earlier, only wrinkled, and tired eyes. "How is he?"

"He's…upset," he opens his mouth as if to say more, but apparently decides not to. "Come on let me walk you home. It's not safe out so dark."

"I'm only a few houses away," I point out with a smile, my eyes meeting his if only for a moment. Still it doesn't deter him and soon we found ourselves walking back down the street, our feet finding a steady rhythm.

Although we walk mostly in silence, every now and then his shoulder bumps mine or my arm skims against his and I don't know if it's my imagination, but every contact no matter how small causes him to visibly stiffen. I'm about to insist I can walk the rest of the way by myself when I realise just how far we've walked. I can see my house already.

"This one's me," I say quickly, wanting to avoid any more awkward interaction. I say my goodbye quickly and I'm about to head up the porch when his hand dashes out unnervingly fast, and catches my wrist before I can go any further.

"Blue wait," he says and when I turn around, his eyes are surprisingly soft and earnest again. "I'm sorry if I've seemed a little off today. Things have just been a little…stressful I guess you could say?" He smiles suddenly as if there's a hidden joke there, and the dimples that appear are so endearing I almost smile back. "Anyway, welcome to Beacon Hills. I suspect with Lydia taking you under her wing we'll see more of each other." And as quickly as those delicate breaths of smoke disappeared, so did he and I didn't take my eyes from his departing back until I could no longer see the white of his shirt.

Even more confused than earlier but feeling somehow lighter, I linger for a little while on the porch, the feel of his hand still lingering on my wrist.


End file.
